Why I am a Bull Ch. 02

Humiliation

***

At first, I had no conception that humiliation could be sexy. It simply hadn't occurred to me that being taken for a mug or intimidated might be a turn-on. But that changed on my next meeting with Eva. I'm pretty open-minded, and in hindsight, I'm surprised that I hadn't thought that someone would get off on it. I'd had lovers who, for want of a better phrase, did get off on being treated badly in the bedroom, or at least expected "men to be men" and make all the demands, but I wouldn't say they were my best or favourite lovers. It was just a thing. I'd never heard a man get off on it, or at least if they did, it was at the hands of a professional dominatrix where it was all theatre.

Eva's note was too good an opportunity to ignore. Whatever the deal was with her fiancé, Ian, I sensed there was something in it for me, so I picked up my phone from the bedside table and texted her.

S: Hi Eva. It's Steven. Kind of surprised to get your note. Are you OK? Problem with Ian about the other night?

I turned over. The thought of her made my morning erection throb. Only a couple of minutes passed before there was a "ding".

E: No problem at all, unless you count my damp underwear ;-) I'm in town this afternoon. Free for a drink?

S: Possibly. What's the deal with Ian? I don't really need a jealous husband in my life

Apart from not wanting to seem too keen, I really didn't want to be dating an attached woman. All the sneaking around wouldn't really suit me. When I want a woman, I want her on my terms.

E: I'd actually like to explain it to you. Ian's not the jealous type. Around six in the bar at Fitzroy House?

I paused. That'll be expensive, I thought. I guess I could just turn up and suggest somewhere else.

S: Sure. See you at six

After a day answering phone calls for some stupid sales company, a drink with a sexy woman in nice surroundings was welcome. I showered, put on a clean shirt and the tiny amount of expensive cologne I had left, and headed for the bar. Seated at a table near the window was a gorgeous-looking Eva, wearing a pencil skirt and perfectly pressed blouse and, much to my disappointment, a suited Ian. I sat down and said nothing. I was genuinely surprised to see him, and was almost expecting a repeat of the party when he attempted, rather feebly, to get in my face. Eva leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I think my disappointment was showing.

"Do you know what a cuckold is, Steven?"

"Erm...", I wasn't expecting a quiz. And didn't particularly want one. She saved me from my embarrassment.

"Ian is one. He gets sexual gratification knowing I'm being fulfilled. He enjoys knowing I'm getting what I need, and that his, erm, shortcomings, are acknowledged. After we made love, do you remember what happened?"

"Well, I seem to recall you went over to him and returned to the party."

"Yes, but I also whispered to him. What do you think I said?"

"I honestly have no idea." and intriguing as this was, it wasn't why I'd come.

"I said to him, 'If only you were a tenth of that man, I'd not have to do this', and that's what made him come." Why were we discussing the loser that for some reason she was marrying?

"I'd rather not dwell on it, to be honest." I sensed that this wasn't playing out as I'd expected. A drink, some flirting and a proper fuck had been my plan.

"You should. It might be to your advantage."

I felt she was reading me. Or playing me. Did she know I wasn't exactly as I appeared? Her emotional intelligence turned me on. I felt as if she were my equal... more than just a good-looking woman, she was cunning. She had a goal.

"Ian is a lovely man. He provides for me generously, and we have an intimate home life, but he understands I need my freedom if I am to avoid frustration and remain content, and so other forms of intimacy are necessary."

She didn't look like she needed a sugar daddy. Ian was no older than her. She was obviously exceptionally intelligent and from her dress sense, I guessed she had some kind of high-powered professional job. I didn't really understand the situation.

"How do you mean 'provide'? I mean..." I faltered. she quickly interrupted me with a giggle.

"Oh no! I'm not an escort - we really love each other! I mean he looks after me, cares about me and makes me happy. I'm perfectly capable of providing for myself, but Ian enjoys it and we have a life together. I just have needs he struggles to meet."

"I need a drink," I said. I caught the waitress's eye and she came over. "Three G&Ts please, one for my friend and his fiancée."

The waitress smiled, looked at Ian and Eva and said, "Congratulations! Of course, sir," and returned to the bar.

Eva continued, "He particularly enjoys the humiliation. He has seen me with a few lovers, and it stimulates him enormously. He's very attentive and loving for days afterwards."

As the waitress returned with our drinks, I turned and kissed Eva full on the mouth. She instantly reciprocated, her teeth nibbling my lip as my hand slid along the skirt to her constrained buttocks.

The waitress lifted one of the glasses, saw our passionate embrace, and stuttered, "For your... fiancée, you, sir, and your... erm... friend."

I didn't stop. My other hand cupped a breast, kneading it softly, feeling the nipple harden. After a minute, I released her from my grip. A little of her hair fell down her face.

Ian was crimson. And silent. We all were. Had I gone too far? I thought he liked the humiliation? Why did I care if he liked it? I have only two feelings about men: neutrality or irritation. I guess it was vicarious - Eva had said he liked it, and it was her I wanted to please.

"Wow," said Eva. "You see, after your 'discussion' at the party, it was clear to me that you enjoy belittling men, but I had no idea you were so good at it."

I was, again, genuinely confused. It kind of felt like a setup. I didn't "enjoy" belittling men, it was just that he had been acting like a prick, so I thought I'd lance that particular boil rather than play stupid games competing while remaining polite. Eva continued,

"...but public humiliation is a first for us, isn't it, Ian?"

"Yes," he answered, shifting in his seat, "I found it very stimulating - your passion, I mean."

He was lying. He could see the waitress sniggering and discreetly pointing at is from behind the bar. He found the idea of the waitress knowing his secret exciting. He was alert, on the look out, his fight or flight hormones raging, his heart pumping. I bet he even had an erection.

A few minutes passed as we drank. I continued to touch Eva, hoping that we'd get to my part of the plan. As the glasses were approaching empty, I thought I'd better make my move, or this was going to fizzle. I wasn't used to flirting with a man watching, and was beginning to feel out of my depth.

I caught the waitress's eye again.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Could you arrange a room for us please?" I asked politely.

"Certainly, sir. Could I have your credit card for the reservation please?"

There was a slight pause. I looked straight across the table at Ian, "Ian?"

He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, removed the card and gave it to the waitress. We sat in silence as Ian avoided eye contact. I'd probably just cost him £300.

A few minutes later, she returned.

"Room 5, on the first floor," and handed the card back to Ian.

As we stood to leave, I put my hand on Ian's shoulder and said, "No, we'll text you shortly, wait here."

"But..." he objected. I looked straight at him. No words were said. Eva was almost panting with excitement. He stopped hovering above the seat like some kind of insect and sat back, defeated. We made for the stairs.

I took Eva by the hand and led her to the room. The sounds of traffic and her clicking heels on the floor seemed like a film soundtrack. A thirty-second walk seemed to last for hours. Once in the room, clothes were pulled off and words exchanged.

"God, you're so much better at this than I expected," she panted.

"Just doing what comes naturally," I assured her.

We kissed furiously like this was our last opportunity. She was sexier than I remembered from the party. It'd been dark in the garden, but here I could see how firm she was. With the most fantastic breasts - full, but high and with little give when grabbed. I bent down to take her hard nipple into my mouth. She reached for my cock, which pressed hard into her belly, unable to get her hands around it's girth. We stumbled out of our underwear and toppled on to the bed.

I don't really consider myself what some would call a "generous" lover. I'm happy to take my time - go down, explore, stimulate - but in reality, for me, it's all about the fucking. I love to fuck. I love to shove my cock into a woman and and feel the ridges of her cunt as I thrust. I love to hold them down and use them for my physical pleasure. My mind stops racing and I can be entirely focussed on the smells, sensations and sounds of kissing, fucking and coming. I consider it a huge bonus if that's the kind of coupling my partner desires - but only a bonus, not a necessity. Given the unexpected nature of this encounter, and a lingering feeling that the devil makes work for (Ian's) idle hands, I wasn't going to make this a marathon.

"Turn over and lie flat on the bed," I commanded.

She did as she was told. I slid on top of her body, my now throbbing cock placed just under her buttocks, filling the gap between her thighs. I pushed her legs apart with my knee and placed her neck in the crook of my elbow to prevent her from moving forward. With a single thrust, I penetrated her cunt to it's fullest. She momentarily tensed and then completely surrendered as was she bound by my arm around her neck. As I thrust, I grabbed her phone from the bed where she'd dropped it, held it in front of us and took a picture. There were no words as I hammered home. Slowly, her body tensed, her limbs straightened, fingers and toes extended then curled, and her back arched, lifting me a few inches.

The most intense sound came from her - like an animal's cry, it grew and escaped as she came; a soft, cracking, scream. Still, I kept pumping into her, her body now perspiring from the tension of her continuous orgasm. As I joined her, we both bent backwards, as the most almighty load was delivered into her and the flexing of my arm muscles started to choke her. I flopped back on top of her and released her neck. She started panting. Breathing like the animal that had escaped the predator one more time. I rolled off her - she'd given me what I wanted.

After a few moments, she rolled over and kissed me.

"That was exceptional. I almost feel for Ian having missed that performance."

"He can watch the next one," I said, smiling with a lightness and relief in my tone that I'd not expected. I grabbed her phone and looked at the picture I'd hastily taken. Me peering cheekily from behind her head. Her with her eyes closed, hair falling down her face and mouth open like a cheap sex doll. I texted Ian from her phone and sent myself a copy to remind me of her passion:

E: You can come up now

E:

Seconds later, there was a knock at the door. I'm sure the little weasel had been outside it and not in the bar. I got up and let him in. He involuntarily looked down at my cock. It hung like fat sausage, glistening from the wetness of his fiancée.

"I need a shower," I said. "Eva has been through the wringer - give her a massage."

I went into the bathroom and took a cool shower. I needed to be fresh if I was to do this again. When I came back into the room, Eva was lying face down on the bed motionless, with Ian at the side rubbing her bottom and probing between her legs.

"Hey!" I shouted. "What are you doing?"

"You said give her a massage," he said in a surprised, almost guilty, tone.

I strode over to him, he stood up and I grabbed his balls through his suit. I squeezed harder than I'd intended to and he winced. Ian may not be the jealous type, but it appears that I may be.

"Not her cunt, you fuckwit. That's mine now. I want her to be relaxed for the next round. Undress and lie face down on the floor."

As he stripped, I could see he had an erection. He really did get off on having me fuck his partner.

I touched Eva's leg and she turned over sleepily, lazily. She was totally spent. I hoped she was still up for this. I turned her through 90 degrees, raised her legs onto my shoulders and positioned my cock on her vulva. I could feel the dampness and the heat. As I did so, I placed one foot on Ian's back to brace myself. My hardening cock re-entered her, my previous emission making the entry even easier. She started moaning - a very different sound to before and I took a little more time to find my pleasure inside her. With each thrust the weight of my leg made him huff like a smoker after a run. He could hear and feel me violating his yet-to-be bride. Out of the corner of his eye, I'm sure he was watching as my heavy balls slapped against her hard buttocks, my ball sack tightening with the mounting sexual excitement.

Eva involuntarily began touching her clitoris, the darting fingers touching my thickening shaft. Once again, in a surprisingly short amount of time, we both came, and I pulled out. As I moved back, drips of my semen fell on Ian. Now released, he looked up the gaping hole that had been his girlfriend's vagina, one load of semen whipped into a white foam surrounding it, the second oozing out onto the sheets at the edge of the bed.

There was a small, damp stain on the carpet underneath him. It appears the rocking motion from my weight and overall scenario had been too much for him.

"Are you sure you've not done this before? That was a great performance," he said.

I was confused for the third or fourth time today. He continued, "A lot of men who claim to be bulls just can't pitch the humiliation right. They might ask me to sit in the corner or tie me to a chair, but that's just to get me out the way as they just want to fuck, but you're a pro, like you had it all scripted."

He was being almost chatty, like he felt something had changed and we were friends now. He smiled at me as if to ask for some kind of acknowledgement that we were done and I'd just have a beer with him or something.

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. There's no 'script', no 'performance'. I wasn't doing anything to please you. I was doing what I wanted to please me.... and from the look of her, Eva. If you think I'm just some hired help here to fill some void in your psyche, you're totally crazy. I can't understand you at all. You actually disgust me, with your tiny dick issues and your 'needs and fetishes'. I'm here for one reason and one reason only, to have a fucking fantastic time with a fucking fantastic women, fucking. You're only here because Eva seems to think it's necessary for her - though, given her appearance, I doubt it. If it were up to me, I'd have you chemically castrated so no poor woman ever has to be bothered by that streak of gristle you're packing."

His erection returned. He really did get off on being humiliated. But as it turns out, I got off on humiliating him. Once again, I could feel a stirring as I gave him my speech. Surprisingly, taking this man's betrothed excited me. It wasn't as I expected - no sneaking around, no jealous threats or anguish and I think I'd made it clear; no need to share - that cunt was mine now.

And he'd paid for the privilege. This was working out far better than I'd thought it might when I'd entered the bar and seen his pathetic form next to Eva.

As a man of modest means, I could see what an opportunity this was. I get to fuck a beautiful woman on my terms. No expenses, no insisting on 'going back to hers' to hide my simple existence.

"Eva?" I softly asked. "What are your plans?"

"Sleep," she said softly through a smile. "I'll call you and invite you over so we don't have to bump into Dan and Gabby."

"Can't wait," I said. "You're amazingly sexy."

I got dressed and picked up my phone, The message from Eva with our photo made me want to stay. Even though she was only on the other side of the room, I remembered the event with nostalgia, as if it had been destined in some way.

I went over to her and kissed her. Ian was by now lying on the bed.

"You can't touch what's mine," I said to Ian. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but there was nothing came out. "To make sure, just remember I have this," and I reminded him of the picture of me fucking his bride-to-be, "and if I even think you've been touching what's mine, I might just show Dan and Gabby, since you seem so keen to keep them out of this."

He remembered the party, and how they'd all been showing off and comparing their trophy careers, trophy houses and trophy wives.

"I won't, Steven. Please - Dan works for me, I can't have that."

"Then behave. After all, if you can't provide for Eva, what's the point of you?"

His erection returned, and I left.